WARPED

Chapter 23

Jocelyn woke up to sound of muttering.
She raised her head, feeling the squeaky material of the armchair in the den under her fingertips. She wanted to sit up, but moving an inch made the world spin in front of her eyes like she was strapped to a merry-go-round. She vocalized her discomfort instead, moaning loudly and gritting her teeth.
The memories came rushing back to Jocelyn, which she considered an improvement from the last time she had woken up post-portal jumping. She could remember everything: spinning the broom, running from Stan, opening the portal to…
She frowned. Why had she opened the portal in the first place? Hazelle had been trying to open one of hers, but Jocelyn's mouth had jumped on the opportunity to show off before her conscience could rein it in. Wanting to be her attention-loving self sure hadn't worked out as well as it usually did.
Jocelyn's eyes swiveled to the side upon more muttering. Hazelle was sitting in a chair from the kitchen table, pulled up next to the armchair. Hazelle was passed out, head on the arm of Jocelyn's chair, murmuring fretfully. Her face was taut, sweat pooling on her forehead, and her fingernails were digging into the skin of her palm.
"Haze…?" Jocelyn asked sleepily. She wanted to go back to sleep, but something in the way Hazelle was sleeping, all anxious and disturbed, bothered her. She sat up, swallowing back a shriek of pain, and tried to wake up her friend.
"Yeah, she's been doin' that for a while now," came a voice from across the room.

It was then that Jocelyn noticed Stan sitting in a chair near the window, keeping a watchful eye on herself and Hazelle.
"Oh, um, hi," Jocelyn whispered, not wanting to wake her friend.
Stan gave Jocelyn a sly smile. "So Sleeping Beauty is finally awake, huh?"
"I- yeah I guess so," Jocelyn answered. "What time is it?"
"Well," Stan said, looking at his watch, "about two in the morning."
"Two in the—" Jocelyn's hands flew to her phone: 2:14 blared back at her in the dim dark. "I've been out for, like, nine hours!"
At Jocelyn's exclamation, Hazelle jerked awake. Her head slipped off the armchair and she fell, smacking into the floor with a breathless "Ow!"
"Oh, shit—Hazelle!" Jocelyn offered a hand, frowning. "God, are you okay?"
Hazelle blinked wearily, as if the floor's rude awakening hadn't done the trick to completely wake her up. Bags hung under her eyes in crinkly little arches. "Wha—who? Drop spin?"
Jocelyn couldn't hold back a snort. "You were dreaming about color guard?" Even Stan couldn't help but chuckle.
"Uh…um…" Hazelle's gaze seemed to finally focus and she was perplexed. "Uh, yeah. I think so. Maybe…I don't entirely remember."
"Whatever it was, it sure was messing with you," Jocelyn noted. "You're sweatier than usual."
Hazelle wiped a hand across her forehead, looking indignant but too tired to bother arguing. "It was?"
"Enough to make you toss and turn, anyway. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I should be asking you the same thing," Hazelle said suddenly, doctor-in-training eyes scanning Jocelyn's body. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a train," Jocelyn complained. "But otherwise, pretty peachy."
"Fantastic." Hazelle sat back down in the kitchen chair. "That's weird. Last time you fainted you felt fine and didn't remember anything. This time, you feel everything and remember everything."
"Must be a 'with practice' thing," Jocelyn said. There was a waver to her voice that hadn't been there before. The memories were sharper now in her mind, and she was reminded of the terror she'd felt when she couldn't control the portal again. Even spinning hadn't helped, and that normally cured any and all inhibitions. What was she going to do? She really was dangerous.
Stan cleared his throat. "I don't think the practicing thing is a great idea, kid. I can't scam a town that isn't standing."
Hazelle shot him a look before gently asking, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Don't worry about it." Tears were perched on the edge of Jocelyn's voice, but she grinned and leaned back in the chair, trying to hide it. She hated people seeing her cry. "If passing out from portals means you guys get to carry me everywhere, then I'm not complaining."
"Right," Hazelle said, obviously not convinced at all.
There was a creaking noise as Stan stood up. "I'll get you a glass of water. And you," he said, looking at Hazelle. "Go get some rest. You look like death."
"Thanks, I'm trying to get death's look," Hazelle replied, rubbing a spot on her elbow. "It only cost me tons of hours of sleep to get."
Stan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, you kids are sassy. Go on up to bed, smartypants. And put some ice on that shiner," he added, jerking his chin at the bruise on Hazelle's elbow.
"Are you sure?" Hazelle glanced worriedly at Jocelyn. "I can stay with you if you need—"
"Haze," Jocelyn cut in. "You literally look like death. Go to bed. I'm fine."
Hazelle bit her lip, looking like she wanted to say more. And not just to fight their insistence that she go to bed—heavy words were on her tongue, words she had totally rehearsed beforehand and desperately wanted to say, but now nerves were getting to her, as they always did.
"What?" Jocelyn asked, somewhat defensively. She didn't like how Hazelle was staring at her.
"I… Nothing," Hazelle replied, visible deflating. "Grab me if you wanna go to sleep, Stan."
"Gotcha, kid." Stan handed Jocelyn a glass of ice water and nodded at Hazelle with respect.
With a gulp and a stuttery wish goodnight, Hazelle rounded the corner and vanished upstairs.
"She looks even more freaked out than usual," Stan noted, taking a seat in the kitchen chair.
Jocelyn hummed under her breath in agreement. "I think I woke her up from a nightmare when she fell on the floor."
"Way to take the direct approach," Stan said. "It was kinda funny to watch."
Jocelyn finished the water, wishing the coldness would cool the building heat in her chest. She felt…wrong. Off. Upset, even. There was fear crawling around in her body, licking at her blood.
She snapped out of it when she heard Stan chuckling. "What?"
"It's just…" Stan shook his head in disbelief. "I'm housing five kids now. At the beginning of this summer, I didn't know if I'd be able to handle two."
"But we're adorable," Jocelyn replied, "so it makes up for taking up room."
"Pft. Yeah, sure, let's go with that." Stan hooked his leg over his thigh. "Speaking of which, is everything all right with the shorter-haired one?"
"Lucy?" Jocelyn scowled. "Who even knows? She's got her own issues to deal with."
"Just asking." Stan shrugged. "It ain't any of my business, kid, but no one likes to be left out in the dark. Everybody's got demons."
"I've tried bringing her into the light, or whatever. Her attitude keeps getting in the way."
"Hers? Or yours?"
Jocelyn hesitated. "Both, I guess."
"Again: ain't any of my business," Stan clarified. "But at the end of this all—whatever this is—the three of you are going home together. And then you're gonna have to deal with all this emotional baggage in your reality. Think about that."
Jocelyn sighed, braiding her hair back. Her bones felt as heavy as lead. "Do you know how the hell I can get this portal jumping thing under control?" she asked, looking up to meet Stan's eyes.
Stan winced, scratching his back. "Ugh, oh jeez, kid, I dunno. Portal jumping…it's rare. So rare, I thought they'd all died out. The fact that you and Four Eyes can do it…it's disarming. Very disarming."
Jocelyn was quiet, thinking and trying to hold back dark, harmful thoughts. "Do you think your—" She lowered her voice. "—your portal downstairs could send us home?"
Stan took off his glasses and rubbed at his face. "I can't promise anything," he said, grave. "I've been thinking about it, and I think if I had the time to prepare and do a few test runs—maybe. There's a tiny chance. But don't hold your breath. I barely even know how to work the thing in general."
"I was just thinking…do you think that maybe I could open a portal for our reality?"
"Honestly? I don't think it's worth the risk. Sure, yeah, you could get sent back home, or you could get sent to some crackpot reality with…I dunno, alcoholic scientist grandpas taking their dumb grandsons on stupid science adventures. There's an infinite number of possibilities and only a tiny sliver of hope."
A tiny sliver of hope.
Jocelyn's chest heaved and she scrubbed at the dam that had broken behind her eyes. She sniffled, trying her very best to hold everything in.
"Whoa—hey, kid, what's wrong?" Stan demanded, eyes wide and frantic. "Oh, jeez, what hurts? I have some of that looney vague pain medicine if you—"
"I'm fine," Jocelyn sniffed. Physically, anyway. "I'm just…I dunno. I'm freaked out. I don't know what to do. I feel like if I can't get a hold on my powers, I'm gonna hurt someone, like you, or Hazelle, or Mabel or Dipper."
"That's very true," Stan affirmed. "But—just relax, okay? Don't freak out. It's emotions that cause all the trouble." He nodded at her. "You're not, um, alone in this, or anything. You got your whackjob friends, and Mabel, and the boy, and Soos, and me. Jeesh, you've even got McGucket. We'll get you home somehow. Okay?"
Taking a deep breath, Jocelyn nodded and gave him a watery smile. "Thanks, old man."
Stan's lips twitched in a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, you human bull horn. How about you try to get some more sleep, all right? You've gotta be wiped out."
She was. Yawning, Jocelyn leaned back and kicked her shoes off, snuggling into the quilt lying over the top of the chair. She muttered a goodnight, but she fell asleep so immediately she wasn't sure if she'd said it loud enough for Stan to hear.

XxX

Jocelyn woke to Mabel jumping on top of her.

"JOCELYN! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Mabel shouted.

"Can't...breathe..." Jocelyn wheezed. Her head still throbbed like a bitch, and Mabel wasn't helping.

"Mabel," came Dipper's voice from across the room. "Get off of her, she just woke up."

"I KNOW! BUT WE THOUGHT SHE WASN'T GONNA WAKE UP!"

"Mabel, shut up!" Jocelyn moaned. So this was how Lucy had felt the other day.
"How are you feeling?" Hazelle yawned. She had just come down the stairs and was rubbing her eyes.

"Well, aside from the elf with a machete running around in my head, I guess I'm okay," Jocelyn replied, wincing as she sat up. Her neck felt stiff, no doubt from sleeping in the old armchair, and she was starving. Missing meals was something Jocelyn did not like to do.

"Hey knuckleheads!" came Stan's shout from the kitchen. "Stancakes are done! But you gotta come get 'em!"

Mabel and Dipper bounded out of the room, eager to fight for the best of the batch. Jocelyn was slow to rise from the chair, and tried to move slowly to keep the pounding in her head at bay.

After the seemingly long trek to the kitchen, Jocelyn slid into a chair between Dipper and Hazelle, and began to help herself to some eggs, tactfully avoiding the leftover Stancakes.

"How are you feeling?" Dipper asked politely.

Jocelyn swallowed a large mouthful of eggs and winced. She just loved the crunch of eggshells in her eggs. Not. Freaking Stan.

"A lot better, thanks," Jocelyn replied before shoveling another spoonful of eggs into her mouth. Quiet ensued, and only the sound of forks clinking on plates filled the room. It seemed that nobody had much to say.

"Well, kiddos," Stan began, breaking the somewhat awkward silence, "I, for one, think today will be a great tourist day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and there are suckers galore, just waiting to get jipped!"

Lucy, who up until this point had been silent next to Mabel, muttered under her breath, "Don't really get why people would wanna come to this pig pen, but okay."

Jocelyn hadn't been awake for an hour and she'd already had enough of Lucy's attitude.

"Lucy, I swear to God I will open a portal and send you to hell if you keep this up," Jocelyn retaliated in a dangerously low voice.

Hazelle, Dipper, and Mabel looked back and forth between Jocelyn and Lucy nervously. Stan pretended not to notice, suddenly immersed in his eggs and Stancakes.

Lucy kept her eyes trained to her plate and replied, "Huh. Hell. Sounds pretty scary." She slowly looked up and met Jocelyn's eyes defiantly, smirking. "If only you could control it."

A dangerous silence that even Stan couldn't ignore filled the room. Lucy had struck a nerve.

Jocelyn's eyes flashed, and the lights over the table flickered.

Then, Jocelyn lunged across the table at Lucy.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Jocelyn screeched as Dipper and Hazelle grabbed her arms and pulled her away from the table.

Lucy only smirked at Jocelyn before standing up and depositing her plate in the sink.

"Thanks for breakfast, Stan," Lucy said before sauntering out of the room.

"I'm gonna kill her," hissed Jocelyn.

"Jocelyn!" Hazelle admonished. "Cool it."

"You'd be homicidal too if she insulted you!" Jocelyn wrenched her arms from Dipper and Hazelle's grasp. "She's not gonna make it home alive."

Dipper paled. "Why do you have to be so violent?"

Jocelyn ignored his question and started out of the room in the direction that Lucy had left.

"Hey, kid!" Stan called behind her. "I don't think that's a very good idea!" But Jocelyn didn't care. She had had enough of Lucy, and she wanted to set the record straight with her.

The next thing Jocelyn knew, she was on the ground, with Hazelle and Mabel, who had tackled her, on top of her.

"You are not going up there." Hazelle, actually showing some initiative for once, pinned Jocelyn down. "You need to calm down. And the best way for you to do that is to stay away from Lucy."

This did nothing to improve Jocelyn's temper. "FINE!" she yelled. "Just get off me!"

"Not until you promise to not follow Lucy upstairs!"

Jocelyn was tired. Tired of fighting, and tired of being treated like a child. She deflated like a balloon. "Okay. I promise."

Slowly, Hazelle eased herself off of Jocelyn's back. Jocelyn's headache had returned with a vengence, and she was sorely in need of some Motrin.

"You know," Dipper offered, "You should really try and get your temper under control. It'll only make the whole portal thing worse."

Enough with the whole portal thing! Jocelyn thought. I'm not a child, and I'm not a time bomb!

But Jocelyn was too exhausted to argue.

Hazelle offered her hand. "Wanna go watch some TV? Maybe Ducktective is on."

"Yeah, I guess so." Jocelyn took Hazelle's outstretched hand, and pulled herself up off of the floor. Dipper and Mabel led the way to the den. But on their way, Jocelyn heard a voice coming from upstairs. From the roof, actually.

She turned to Hazelle. "Do you hear that?"

Hazelle tilted her head, listening. "That sounds like Lucy. What is she doing up there?"

"Let's go find out."

"Didn't you just hear me?" Hazelle said, exasperated. "You need to stay away from Lucy!"

"I won't kill her or anything," Jocelyn grumbled. "I just wanna see who she's talking to."

An unsure Hazelle and a curious Jocelyn quietly made their way upstairs, making sure to steer clear of the creaky steps.

As they neared the top of the steps, they could more clearly make out what Lucy was saying. "What the heck? I never gave you permission to do that!"

Hazelle and Jocelyn exchanged a look of confusion. Who was Lucy talking to?

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Hazelle and Jocelyn made it to the roof door, which was ajar. They peeked outside, making sure to keep their heads low.

And there, on the roof of the Mystery Shack, was Lucy. Talking to thin air.